


On A Wire

by gremlinny



Series: Two Birds [1]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, The LEGO Batman Movie (2017)
Genre: Bruce Wayne Is Disabled, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Canon Disabled Character, Disabled Character, Gen, Hurt Bruce Wayne, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, bruce loves his son so very much, dick grayson is a sweet boy, father/son dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:56:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22660612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gremlinny/pseuds/gremlinny
Summary: Dick has a nightmare, and there’s only one person he can go to.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne
Series: Two Birds [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686352
Comments: 4
Kudos: 155





	On A Wire

**Author's Note:**

> this is my own little AU where I took the Lego Batman Movie version of Robin and made him be A Real Human Boy Child and now he’s the adopted son of the Dark Knight Trilogy version of Bruce Wayne. It’s not set in any specific time in the movies, but it’s somewhere after the second Nolan movie, since Bruce’s knee is messed up.
> 
> Christian Bale’s version of Bruce, and Jacob Tremblay as 10-and-half-year-old Dick’s faceclaim

Being silent and agile is something Dick Grayson has spent all ten and a half years of his life trying to perfect. 

But Wayne manor has squeaky floorboards, and he’s only been here for three days— not nearly long enough to find a quiet way around the whole place. So, for once, he doesn’t bother trying to sneak around, at least not more than necessary for being up late at night.

The sleek wooden stairs that lead down to the second floor are cold against his bare feet, and he has to take care not to slip. Over and over, he has to find the railing in the darkness, stepping downwards carefully until his toes edge against the rug in the landing. 

Moonlight filters in through the windows, casting shadows on the floor and wall that shift with the way the curtains move. 

Bruce’s room is at the end of the hall, and it seems like it’s a mile away. Dick hesitates, weighing his options. He could go in and wake Bruce up and tell him what happened, or he could go back into his own room. 

He’s already made it this far, why go back now?

His footsteps are muffled, by both the rug on the floor and the legs of his oversized pajama bottoms that are pooling down at his feet. Carefully, Dick turns the knob and pushes the door open. 

Bruce’s bed is large, with the man himself tangled up in the sheets, lying on his right side and facing the door. His cane is propped up against the nightstand, and Dick is sure to step around it carefully so as not to knock it over. 

There’s enough light coming into the room that the details of Bruce’s face are clearly visible, finally relaxed in sleep instead of the anxious and stressed way his features are while he’s awake.

He’s young, younger than Dick might’ve thought when they first met— though the first thing he noticed then was the cane and the limp and the tired lines under his eyes. Bruce is barely 30, it turns out, which had been a bit of a surprise at first. The cane and the limp are because of a steadily worsening injury to his right knee, and the dark circles under his eyes was just because he didn’t get much sleep. 

The moonlight deepens the shadow at the hollow of his cheekbones, with his hair looking more blueish-black than its usual light brown. There’s the barest hint of stubble on his jaw, a light dusting of freckles across his face, and a tiny mole just to the side of his nose, by his right eye. The low-cut collar of a white tank-top is visible near the section of him that’s not covered by the blanket, along with a black mass of dark sweatpants and the mismatched socks on his feet.

It takes a moment for Dick to assure himself that Bruce is sleeping and not dead. The rise and fall of his chest is a small comfort, easing his fear. Dick takes a deep breath, messing with the hem of his too-big Superman t-shirt.

After a moment, Dick reaches up and over to gently shake the man’s shoulder.  
“Bruce. Bruce, wake up.”

Bruce’s eyes flutter open, and he squints into the darkness at the shadowed figure of his adopted son. 

“Huh,” he mumbles, not fully awake. He rubs at his eyes and fights back a yawn, then checks the clock on the nightstand. “It’s three in the morning, little bird, why’re you up?”

“I had a nightmare. Can I sleep in here with you?”

Bruce stares at him for half a second, then lifts up the blanket and allows the boy under. 

It’s warm, snuggled up against his dad with the covers around them both. Everything’s scented like the flowery laundry detergent the sheets were washed in, while Bruce’s presence brings the crisp smell of Irish Spring soap.

“Thanks,” Dick says, quietly, and Bruce wraps his big arms around the boy’s smaller frame, pulling him into a hug.

“Of course, sunshine. Sleep tight.”


End file.
